


Conflict of Interest

by ashford2ashford



Series: Teufort Teams - Conflict of Interest [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, slight bloodplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashford2ashford/pseuds/ashford2ashford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The RED Sniper was surprised when he did not end up dead like his successor. For some reason he seemed to have caught the attention of the other team's Spy, and often that led to a horrible and bloody death at the assassin's hands. </p><p>So why was he still alive? </p><p>Maybe it had something to do with the BLU Spy taking a sudden liking to him....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Conflict of Interest

**Author's Note:**

> Taking place along the same timeline as the Oil and Soda series. 
> 
> This is my favourite fic I have ever written in an RP. The RED Sniper and the BLU Spy, My own take on the age old TF2 relationship.

As the morning rose over 2Fort, the wonderful still air was pierced by the sound of the battle sirens, the Announcer’s cold and calculating voice echoing out over the battlefield. Stirring in both RED and BLU bases, both armies assembling and meeting on the front lines. A war that happened every day at 6am exactly and ended at 4pm exactly. Like the daytime working shift from hell.

The days were always bloody and the nights always spent recovering. If someone died, then it was no problem to the companies that hired them. The bodies were gotten rid of and a new man sent to replace them. Talks of a ’re-spawn’ system were in motion, but no one knew what that was or how effective it would.

The RED Sniper sat in his Sniper’s nest as he had done for the past three weeks he’d been stationed at the fort. His predecessor had been killed some time ago, he’d seen the corpse, apparently slashed to pieces by the BLU Spy. Backstabbing scumbags.

So as he sat there, his mind filled with all thoughts of war, his scope trained on the battlefield, he was suddenly aware of someone else in the room. Someone who was laughing softly and making his way over to the sniping post. Someone who smelled of cigarettes even when cloaked and had a soft air of French about him.

Imagine the sniper's surprise when the BLU Spy suddenly appeared in his lap and kissed his nose. He’d heard that the French were a nation of over-friendly sex crazed people, but this just seemed surreal, like a ridiculous dream.

"Spy..."

"What? Zis eez what people do to greet each other, non?"

"My nose?"

"Would you rather it were your lips? I could do zat?"

"... why would you do that?"

" Why wouldn't I? Zere eez nothing wrong with exploring...." The BLU leaned in and softly wrapped his arms around the RED Sniper's neck.

".... Spy... what is... why?"

One of the Spy's gloved hands played with the Sniper's hat, "Hmm? Pardon? You are not speaking clearly...."

"I just... I'm a little confused."

"I....am not, however..." The other leaned in, dangerously close, halfway between playful and sinister - like most spies were. Breath was felt on the Sniper's ear, "...I know exactly...what I want..."

A growl rumbled through the Australian's chest, he swallowed, "... and what would that be?"

No reply. A soft laugh heard - and felt - on the delicate shell of the ear. Both arms curled around the strong shoulders, long legs dangling from the other's lap, expert hands playing with both the nape of the Sniper's neck and the back of his hat. Dangerous. A constant fear that any moment there would be the prick of the knife into a vital point, and then nothing. The fellow assassin shivered. What was this feeling? The Frenchman was so close to him he didn't know what to do, by all rights he should be dead by now.

"... Spy?"

"N?" A soft noise, vibrating against his neck now, the hand at its nape sliding down to finger along the collar of his shirt. The other gloved hand played softly with the roughly cut hair - the Spy had always suspected the Sniper cut his own hair - the thin lithe body shifting a little in his lap. Cursing himself, the Sniper knew he was hardening and he couldn't stop it. He hadn't had another warm body this close to him in months. Not since they were first posted into this mission. His eyes were unfocused as he tried not to respond.

The Spy was almost purring, his teeth gently biting at the sensitive lobe of the Sniper's ear, body pressed so tightly to the other male's.

Then he pulled back, stood up, walked over to the small look-out point of the Sniper's shack. A case was pulled out of his pocket, a cigarette lit with a hand he didn't even know was trembling.  
Teasing...

The Sniper groaned, his fingers clawing against the floor. He tried to cross his legs, to hide himself from his opponent. But he couldn't bring himself to move away. The fully suited form of the Spy paced a little around the small shack. It was amazing he'd even got up here without the Sniper's keen sight picking him up, but then again, he supposed the Spy wouldn't have been as good at his job if he'd been easily seen.

This one was different from the others, too. Many Spies died, and many were sent to replace them. Same colour, same long figure, same heritage, but this one seemed to be almost playing with the Sniper. Him sneaking up here had only confirmed it. It was some time before the cigarette was discarded and the Spy cleared his throat, a little smoke curling around his head, ".....Don't look so...'esitant...if I were 'ere to kill you...you would be dead by now..."

"I understand that..." the Sniper's voice was thickening. He couldn't bring his eyes to meet with the Spy. He was on edge, he couldn't understand what he was doing. "So why are you here?"

"Hn...just...curious..." The tall figure in blue looked out of the small window and sighed, observing the bird's eye view of the carnage going on below. He had no intention of becoming like his predecessors.

Another cigarette was removed from the case, the old one being stubbed out underfoot, and the lighter was fumbled with a little. A few clicks. Nothing.  
"........merde."

The clicks cutting into the Sniper's ears, he rummaged in his pockets and fished through his effects to find a battered book of matches. He straightened himself up and extended an awkward hand. He might have mumbled "Here." but his word was spoken almost silently to his shoes.

"Ah..merci." Softly, the gloved hands took the matches - perhaps intentionally brushing his fingers over the other's - and lit up. Smoke soon swirled around the Spy, long fingers curling around the end of the cigarette gently. This time all attention was on the Sniper...and the smile that went across the masked face was not reassuring. Swallowing hard, the member of RED tried not to focus too much on those long, deft fingers. On the way he held a cigarette, so casual yet so controlled. "..........."

"You look so...terrified, mon tireur embusqué...." The Spy seemed humoured at least, smoke blown gently from pursed lips, "...Eet eez a good look for you..."

"I just guess I ain't used to an enemy Spy strutting around my place of work."

"And what a very nice place it is..." It was hard to tell if the BLU was mocking him or not. He certainly seemed to be making himself at home, picking up various magazines and flicking through them, making the rounds around the area, stubbing his cigarette out in the correct manner once he located the ashtray. He leaned against the wooden shack's walls, arms folded, calm, focused, eye burning into his enemy, "....You 'ave been living 'ere for a few weeks, non?"

"I don't much care for goin’ down to the main compound. I like it up here." The Sniper sounded defensive. He'd never had to justify his living space to anyone before...

"Zat eez good...." The Spy's voice lowered. Without warning he seemed to disappear into thin air, smoke billowing out a little, until the familiar press of the knife was felt against the Sniper's unprotected back. The breath was back upon the Australian's ear again, the voice dropping itself to a low purr, "...Eet means no one will be able to interrupt us..."

"Shi...." The Sniper cursed himself for letting his guard down so totally. He froze solid, glaring at the window. "And...... what would that be?"

"Hnn...I am 'ere to just 'ave a little fun...." The tearing of clothing. A thin sharp blade slicing through material easily. "... All those others on your team are so...boring....not entertaining enough, non? But...eet is my first time meeting you, mon tireur embusqué...."

A gloved hand slid into the red clothing, gently stroking along the Sniper's hip, thumb pressing against the flesh there. The other still held the deadly weapon. The Spy sighed, "Your...predecessor was....quite ze incredible man...you 'ave ze same air about you zat 'e 'ad...but you...you are...different zen 'e...."

"Yeah?" The Sniper was obviously petrified, but determined to stay calm. He knew he was trembling, but he couldn't stop. He had never been close enough to an enemy before.

"Mm.." The Spy mumbled to himself in French, ripping and tearing at the clothing of his enemy, revealing the bare torso of the Sniper. There was a sound from behind his captive, the hands - and knife - leaving him for a few seconds, and then, softly, the bare skin of the Spy's long fingers brushed against the Sniper's stomach, tracing over it.

Trembling, the Sniper swore under his breath. "Shi... fucking.... what are you doin?"

"....'as living on your own taught you nothing of this? What does it feel like I am doing?" The fingers moved upwards, ghosting over a nipple, the other hand tracing up the curve of the taller male's spine with the blade of the knife. Fuck of course the lanky Australian knew what he was doing. All he'd had was his right hand and his twisted imagination for company. And as much as he hated to admit it, the Spy's soft fingers were driving him wild, even the blade in his spine was turning him on.

"Look at zis..." One minute the hand was on the Sniper's chest, the next it had slid down fast, leaving fingertips dancing lightly over the bulge in his jeans. The Spy let out a mocking 'tut', gripping the hard length through the fabric, blade pressing harder, "....So 'ard for me...."

The sniper's head dropping back onto the Spy's shoulder he groaned under his breath. "F... fuck, don't... don't..."

"Sshhh...relax...enjoy zis...'ow long 'as it been since you 'ad zis touch? Feels good, oui?" A hand snaked round, the knife pulling at a button on the front of the jeans, snapping it off neatly, the other hand still gripping tightly around the sheathed length. Hardly thinking about the threat of the situation the assassin's hand flew to the Frenchman, gripping his shoulder. His words came out in a low, shuddered growl, "Shi... shit... oh fucking... Jesus!"

"Non, non....I fuck you, oui?" A quick snap of the wrist led to the jeans sliding down over the Sniper's thin hips, pooling around his ankles. Fingers darted over his length once more, this time flesh on flesh, gripping him, moving up and down softly. The knife was pressed flat against the navel, a few hairs taken off by accident. His hand tightening on his adversary, the Sniper's voice was a blur of curses and growling. He pushed up to meet with the Spy's delicate fingers. He couldn't believe how good this felt, getting jerked off by an enemy man shouldn't be this amazing. His hardness disturbed him.

The Spy worked at the other with a certain air of expertise that his class showed in everything. His long fingers curled around the thickness in front of him, stroking, moving at a gentle pace. He growled softly behind the other, soft murmurs in his native language, teeth occasionally meeting the Sniper's warm flesh - either his shoulder or the delicate skin along his spine. Gritting his teeth fiercely, the Sniper wished it didn't feel so good. He wished it hadn't been so long since anyone had touched him like this. More than anything he wished his body wasn't responding to the Frenchman so willingly. But there was no denying the skill in his hands.

Then there was the issue of the knife that was slowly working its way upwards. From the Bushman's navel, softly, gently, up to the chest. Occasionally taking out a few hairs as it did, showing exactly how sharp the enemy kept his weapon, how precise his skilled hands had to be in order to not even leave a scratch or a line on his victim. Upwards further until it rested on the gently pulsating artery of the Sniper's neck, the Spy even letting out a low groan of pleasure himself, despite his still clothed state. His enemies heartbeat...under his knife...  
Such a beautiful sight...

The Australian snarled in response, he hated how helpless he was. The adrenaline that coursed through him was only making his harder. He could see no way out, all he could do was writhe and growl and not get his throat slit.

"Such a beautiful feeling, non?" The sudden gentle use of English. The Spy’s voice seemed strained, yet still so calm and calculating. His hand gripped tighter, whether out of reassurance or threat or both, and the knife followed the trail of the vital area up and down; almost teasingly, "Your life...in my 'ands...and yet...you grow 'arder still....you understand, don't you? Where I'm coming from...you know...what I am...'ow you say?...'getting at' with zis..."

"I don't try and understand Spies," the Sniper spat, tensing at the Frenchman's words. "You're all the same; twisted sadists."

He remembered seeing his predecessor's body carted out, sliced to pieces. He shuddered, this man's hands were on him now, teasing him. Was this what he did, jerked Snipers to within an inch of their self control, make them beg and moan, then slit their throats.

"Tch..." A noise from the Spy. An irritated, agitated noise. The knife pressed harder, a small thin trail of red dripping down the Australian's neck. Yet it did not seem to have been intentional. The Spy seemed to catch himself, his hand slowing on the Sniper's length, then stopping completely, cursing in French under his breath. The knife was removed, a pocket handkerchief dabbing softly at the blood flow until he was satisfied, and then returned to his pocket. It seemed like an eternity before his hand started moving again, stroking along the thick hard flesh, determined to see the other through to his release. The knife returned also, yet it wasn't touching the flesh this time. The Spy didn't trust his trembling hand. He was silent as he continued.

He... actually cared about making him bleed?

The Sniper froze even more so than before. The pain didn't much bother him, but the texture of the fabric and the sound of the Spy irritated, he didn't know what to make of it, "S... Spy?"

The hand gripped harder around the Bushman's length. The other hand flicking the blade around his own fingers. A warning. It seemed the Spy was no longer in the mood for breathless conversations. He hadn't even uttered one groan in so long, seemingly content with just focusing on his task at hand. In fact, the whole act just seemed like the pleasure only came from the Sniper's end now. The sudden change of mood was not lost on the Sniper. Without the blade at his throat he felt able to move more. He tried to move away from the assassin's grip, frowning quietly.

"Ah! Non, non, non!" At least that had got both a reaction and a few words out of his captor. The reaction being the return of the cold steel around his throat. The Spy behind him, "Eez very rude to refuse zis pleasure...."

"Is very rude to give it without askin‘." The Australian was gruff, defensive. Was there even a hint of outrage in his voice.

"Ah...I see..." The Spy seemed to trail off, sighing. Both hands were removed, although not before the Spy lightly pulled the book of matches out of the Sniper's discarded trousers. He sat back, lighting up another cigarette, thoughtful. He glanced at the cloaking device on his wrist. Obviously contemplating using it before the Sniper could ask questions.

"Oi..." the Sniper said it before really thinking. Before he started to look like an idiot he was pulling his trousers up, wincing at the raw flesh at his throat, "What was that? Spy..."

"Eet was an accident." The Spy obviously misunderstood what he was talking about. His gaze was elsewhere. Sat down on the sniper's chair, long legs crossed over, cigarette in one hand, eyes gazing at the various weapons in the Sniper's arsenal, "My 'and slipped. It'll 'eal though."

Fists clenched and trembling, the standing man glared at him, "That's not what I meant."

"Hn?" Glancing up, almost innocently, the Spy cocked his head to one side, "Pardon?"

"You know........." Finding his voice failing him, the Sniper resorted to wild gesticulation. At himself, the Spy, his untended erection.

"Oh!" Realisation dawning and then a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, the gesture looking almost awkward on one who was usually so poised and perfect, ".......Ah. Thought it would be much more fun zen killing you. It was. Congratulations."

"But..." He didn't want to say, 'Why did you stop' that would sound childish, needy, almost as if he wanted it.

"'Owever...it seems I outstayed my welcome....more so than ze moment I set foot in 'ere." Already standing up to leave, the Spy checked himself in a slightly cracked mirror, straightening out his suit and double checking his equipment. The knife was pocketed. The half-naked form of the Red Sniper did not seem to shake his casual attitude.

"But..." the Sniper repeated, feeling like that was all he could say. He was protesting, but what was he protesting? He frowned, buttoning himself up. The hell was this Spy's game?

"Next time I am 'ere, it will be to kill you, understand?" The Spy seemed to ignore any kind of noise from behind him, straightening out his tie in the mirror and checking his mask hadn't slipped away. When he turned to look at the Sniper, there was a darkness in his eyes, "Show you what....'ow did you put eet?...a 'zadistic fucker' I am, oui?"

Silence, the Sniper's mouth was moving, but no words would come out. This couldn't actually be happening to him. What was the Spy's game? What was he playing at?

"And just for ze record, we are not all ze same!" The Sniper hadn't realised up until now that the Spy had somehow got a hold of his hunting knife. He was tossing it in his hands, feeling the size and weight of the blade, almost judging it in every single way. It was thrown at the RED’s feet, splintering the wooden floor of the shack, digging in deep. Something had clearly rattled the usually calm one. Never underestimate a Spy. They all had their own tricks that they liked to play and they certainly were not all the same.

"Never thought you were, Mate." The Sniper sounded decidedly awkward... nervous?

"Ah...but you did...what was eet you said? 'I don' try and understand Spies...you're all ze same, twisted zadists'? Was that not eet?" The Spy straightened himself, sighing and trying to compose himself, as though he never really lost it before, ".....well, sir....we are not ze same! I 'ave never once killed for ze sake of eet, nor 'ave I ever stabbed someone without knowing zem inside and out....knowing 'ow far ze corruption spreads..."

"That why you thought you'd play about we me, eh?" His hand rested on his tender throat, "I'm sorry if I insulted y'professionally or something...I respect you as an adversary... just, I never expected that."

"Zees battlefield....eez pointless. We wake, we kill, we ceasefire, we start again ze next morning. One person dies, eez replaced, eet continues...." Another cigarette. Did he ever stop? "....I grow...bored of zees. I grow bored of ze routine...."

"Yeah.... I getcha..." he really did. The Sniper was, more than anything, sick of this war. But he knew there was no way out, kill or be killed.

"So....I crave ze flesh...." Casual. Like talking his sexual fantasies out over a cup of coffee. "...I crave ze closeness. Ze heat, oui? You are understanding?" The Spy didn't wait for a reply. He continued, "Your predecessor...'e understood...."

"He...." the lanky assassin paled, his eyes fixed on the man before him. "You and... he? But..."

But he'd seen what the Spy did to him!

"Of course....every day…during every battle..." A smile crossed the Spies face. Recalling a fond memory. "Eez funny really! I came with ze intent to keel, and instead....ah...magnificent..."

"But... y'killed him."

"Pardon?" The Spy came back down to earth. Almost heavily.

"I saw him. Y'sliced him to pieces." His jaw was set, the Sniper glared at him. How could he be off dreaming about the man he replaced and not even consider how he died?

"I damn well did not!" Anger flashed across the Spy’s face. His teeth were bared. Gloves fingers curled into tight fists. "Your own Spy did zat!"

".... .... .... what?" Utter disbelief rested on the Australian's face.

"'E did zat! 'E found out about us and confronted us. Eet got violent. 'E determined 'e would finish us both off. When ze Sniper realised zat we both might die, 'e pushed me from 'ere." The Spy motioned to the small stream running below the outpost, "I survived with only a few stab wounds...and a lot of water in my lungs...but ze Sniper...."

He trailed off.

No.. no no no no... that didn't... make sense. The Sniper's brain had gone into overdrive, "We... don't kill our own... what!"

"Well...I suppose exceptions can be found to zis....rule of yours...." The Spy seemed like he didn't want to talk much about the matter. He was already waving slightly as he sauntered lightly over to the hatch.

"W... wait! No... don't... don't go."

"Hm?" The Spy stopped, head cocking to one side, "Ze ceasefire 'as been called. Eez lucky no one was 'urt zis time. Per'aps I see you on ze battlefield tomorrow, non? Per'aps not. We see."

And with that, he was gone.


	2. We Know It Is Wrong

The Sniper couldn't help himself. He knew it was wrong. But they were winning, the front lines were pushing forward. His post abandoned the Sniper found himself, pressed against the back wall of his nest, hands firmly in his pants. He must have jerked off four, five times since the BLU assassin had abused him so delicately. The Frenchman's words were spinning around in his head. Imagining the BLU Spy and his predecessor together... he couldn't help himself.

There it was. The faint groan from apparently nowhere. And it wasn't one of his own. Someone else was in the nest with him.

His eyes opened, rough hand gripping his length, his trousers round his thighs. He knew the Spy was there, and he didn't care. It just made him harder thinking of how many times he'd come thinking of the other man. It was sick, so fucking sick, but he couldn't stop. The silence around him gave no other hint that the BLU was there. Until something curled around the tip of his length. Something warm and wet. Then the presence in front of him could be felt between his legs. Gloves hands gently removing his own hands and replacing them. A muffled groan ringing out into the air.

"Spy..." it wasn't a growl, or an accusation. The Sniper was almost begging, his legs threatened to give out after the first hint of contact. His eyes fluttered closed. This was the shit that was flooding his fantasies. He couldn't get this man out of his mind. The cloaking device was deactivated. The BLU was revealed slowly, on his hands and knees in front of him, between his legs, mouth sucking in his length eagerly.

"Jesus... fuck..." The Sniper was gasping, one hand still pressed against the wall, holding him up. The other slowly came down to brush the top of the Spy's head. Masked as always. No hint to what type of person lay underneath it. Just another Spy. Looking the same as the rest. Dressing the same as the rest. The warmth of the other's mouth slid more so down the Sniper's erection, sucking and lapping, groaning. Pushing roughly to meet with him, the Sniper groaned, "Spy... Jesus... I... " he gasped a laugh. "Guess y'got a thing for Snipers eh?"

Of course the other couldn't reply to that. His eyes were closed and he seemed like he was in such a state of rapture, that he would probably not respond until he was finished. It was hard to tell what the other was thinking. Maybe he was comparing the two Snipers in his mind? Maybe he was dreaming it was his old lover? Maybe he was just content to have someone, anyone...? If that was true, then the Sniper was only too happy to have him there. His mouth was so hot and wet. He sucked like a true pro, the Australian couldn't believe a guy could be this good, but he found himself less disturbed when he thought about it. None of them had seen hide nor hair of a woman since they got here.

The occasional groan from the Spy vibrated around his length, mouth working hard and fast, saliva trailing down the Sniper's cock with each suck. One gloved hand massaged underneath the dripping shaft, whilst the other pumped at the length gently. The Sniper wasn't going to last, he had already worked himself up with a frustrated fist and soon he was groaning and coming hard into the Frenchman's mouth, "Shit... shit... shit... shit........ oh, fucking..."

No one had sucked him off like that in a long while, especially not to a soundtrack of creaking wood and gunfire. The fluid was gulped down with as much eagerness as the Spy dared show. He pulled back, his mouth open, tongue lapping around the shaft, cleaning every last drop he could get. Then he sat up, on his knees, and pulled his cigarette case and a new lighter out of his jacket pockets. As usual, the suit seemed to remain both on and immaculate. Smoke drifted gently around him.

"That was..." the Sniper was bad at finishing his sentences, especially when recovering from something like this, "Fuck."

The Australian grinned and shivered. A soft sigh escaped the Spy, him leaning back, quite content. It seemed he had enjoyed himself at least. There was a light smile on his face.

"You... alright Mate?" Pausing and then slowly, tucking himself back into his skinny trousers, the Australian sighed. Sometimes he wished he'd bought more cigarettes...just to have something to do after sex.

"Hmm...a lot better, I confess." A soft laugh escaped the other.

"Good...." Was it? Was it good that a BLU Spy, THE BLU Spy had snuck into his nest and sucked his dick?

"You seem a lot more...willing than yesterday." The Spy blew a small smoke ring into the air, "Given my words much thought?"

"Yeah..." He'd seen his own Spy last night, moving silently through the compound. He sighed, it certainly would make logical sense, the RED Spy was far more shadowy than the previous one. And he'd known a lot of his own Spies. Of course this could all be an elaborate ruse to murder him slowly, lure him and then slice him worse than the first Sniper...

"And what conclusion 'ave you come to?" This Spy in particular seemed to like looking around, seemed to constantly let down his guard again and again. He was happy at least, smiling softly as he smoked.

"... I never much trusted our Spy..." That was all the Sniper could bring himself to utter.

"You are right not to." The BLU tutted and muttered something in French under his breath. If his story was true, then it was obvious that there would be bad blood between the two Spies, "'E is as 'ighly sexed as me when 'e wants to be....but 'e gets what 'e wants through violence. I think 'e is dragging our Scout back with 'im tonight....I will, of course, 'ave to rescue 'im."

"You gotta do what you gotta do." The Sniper shuddered. "But... I guess he'll probably be after my blood too now."

"Ah...'e does not know zat I 'ave turned my attention to you." The suggestion was waved off with one hand, "Although...zat man tries to sleep with anyone, so don't be surprised if he wishes to....acquaint 'imself with you."

"Well he can go fuck himself. I don't just screw around with every fuckin..." He stopped, checking himself. Blushing he looked away. "Sorry... I didn't mean..."

"Hn...no offence taken...I...figure I would be dead with either a very blunt knife in my back or a bullet in my 'ead if you 'ad not intended to....'screw around' wiz me." At least the Sniper hadn't offended him this time. He seemed happier that they had come to some form of unspoken agreement.

"Yeah..." he smiled lazily, eye checking where he had left his gear. "I don't... mind you coming up here. I guess there's some kinda balance. I'm not shooting your guys, you're not knifing mine."

"Ah...I apologize...I may 'ave clipped your Demoman in ze shoulder on my way 'ere...." The Spy seemed thoughtful, "But...zis does not mean you must show mercy to everyone...zere are people on my team who are in zis for fun, as with yours...if one of yours attempts to kill me, I will kill zem, understand?"

He seemed to ask that question a lot.

"Yeah I getcha." The Sniper pushed from his mind the Solider he tagged before giving up to go have a wank. "I meant more... while you're here."

"Oh, of course...I do not mix my profession and my interests...." Another soft laugh, the Spy stubbing out his cigarette and turning to face the other once more. "I almost did not want to interrupt you ze second time...but I could not resist."

"Yeah... it weren't very professional of me. But to be honest, your last visit shook me up a little."

"Oh? Why eez zat?"

"Cause you held a blade to my throat and jerked me off... then y'spilling some secrets on my Spy and took off. I nearly wanked myself into a coma that night."

"I am…unsure as to which part of zat would arouse you so...but I suppose I can...sort of understand..." The Spy rubbed his stubble grown chin thoughtfully. He clearly didn't get it. Gently he purred as he moved over to the Sniper once more, one gloved hand pressing between the other's legs again, "Why did eet go away? I was not finished..."

"I don't know what you're used to, but ordinary mortals have what we call, recovery time." He smirked, his crotch still stirring under the assassin's touch.

"But you 'ave done zis twice within ze space of a few moments! I cannot 'elp myself...I am eager...." The Spies fingers drew circles on the other's crotch, looking up with an almost pouting face, "Why can 'e not recover outside? Ze fresh air would do 'im good! I do not understand. Eez 'e shy?"

"Hey shut your mouth Spy." There was no malice in the Sniper's words, across his face was a faint blush and a smile. He blinked, fumbling awkwardly with his fly.

"But zen 'ow would I kiss you?" The cold eyes stared at the Sniper, the Spy already starting to undo the buttons on his jacket...


	3. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the sounds of gunfire and war raging on outside of the Sniper's nest, the BLU Spy turned around, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, and regarded the RED sniper coolly. Emotion was given away by his cobalt eyes, which were glittering with amusement, the rest of his face hidden away, save his mouth.
> 
> He'd been in the nest of RED base for quite a while, flicking over books and magazines that the Australian had left lying around, when the Sniper had popped that question out of the blue.

"So....you got any interests?"

"Pardon?"

With the sounds of gunfire and war raging on outside of the Sniper's nest, the BLU Spy turned around, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, and regarded the RED sniper coolly. Emotion was given away by his cobalt eyes, which were glittering with amusement, the rest of his face hidden away, save his mouth.

He'd been in the nest of RED base for quite a while, flicking over books and magazines that the Australian had left lying around, when the Sniper had popped that question out of the blue.

The Spy's accented voice sounded amused, "Why would you ask this of me?"

The Sniper wanted to laugh at how bloody stupid the question was after what they'd done, rolling around on his hard floor, all limbs and clumsy kissing. He sighed, "Just... figured I should get ta know ya... even if it's just a little."

"Hmm...." The Spy mused, before shrugging lightly. There was a pause as he lit his cigarette finally, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke out through his nose, before he replied curtly, "I like reading...people watching...engaging in such fascinating conversation as ze one we are 'aving 'ere...."

He was playfully mocking the Sniper.

"Right I see..." the Sniper backed off, lighting himself up and resting his head against the wall.

Silence and then, "........Et tu?"

"I'm a Sniper... I snipe, I nap, I smoke and consume too much caffeine..."

"Well...zat much eez obvious to even ze least Spy trained." There was humour in the BLU's voice. A magazine was discarded to one side and the Spy sat down on the battered old chair in the nest, perched lightly on the end, legs crossed.

Keeping the usual air of calm and collectedness about him, he laughed, "What I mean....eez what keeps you occupied at night? What makes you tick? What do you do uzzer zan pleasure yourself when I am not around?"

"I'm not a very excitin kinda guy... I read, watch the world, drift about..."

"I see...." Another soft laugh, "....You 'ave no idea 'ow alike you Snipers are....'e was like zat...so quiet and calculating about ze world...."

The previous RED Sniper obviously.

The Australian sighed, gripping his ankles and staring at the wooden floor. He knew he was the replacement for the old Sniper. He'd sounded like a pretty decent sort of guy, and then he was dead... just like he would be eventually. Fag ash dropped onto his lap and he scowled brushing it away. Distracted again.

The Spy, of course, never missed a trick. His steely gazed shifted from the sniper to the window. ".......You know....you are not...'is replacement..."

He spoke in halting English, clearly thinking over each word carefully, " I never...meant to even...do what I did wiz you."

There was sorrow in the French assassin's eyes. The cigarette was burning away to nothing in one blue gloved hand, "....I was angry at first, in fact....at you being 'is replacement...at 'ow 'e should not 'ave died in ze way 'e did.....dead because 'e loved me too much. I...fully intended to kill you zat day...but I did not for some reason...."

"... Heh, fell for my charmin' smile and rugged good looks?" The Sniper said bitterly, smiling lop-sidedly at his boots.

"In a word...yes." From the way it was spoken, it was obvious that the Spy was being deadly serious.

Blinking up at him through his coloured shades, the Sniper swallowed, "... y'... y'really mean that?"

The Spy sniffed, nose in the air, hands locked around his folded legs, "Monsuer, I take great pride in telling you zat I am extremely shallow. I would 'ave backstabbed you ze moment I saw you if you were not attractive to me."

There was a soft sigh from the Frenchman as he continued, "...I will not lie...I was shocked at first because you are so much like 'e was...but make no mistake...I am not wiz you because of 'is memory. I am wiz you because you appeal to me...."

"... I, just can't believe that. I'm a bloody Sniper... I sit in this room for days on end. We're supposed t'hate each other. You're the only thing that keeps me on edge."

"Do I scare you, mon petit Sniper?" A sly smirk crossed the other male's lips. Within seconds, the Spy was stood next to the Sniper, breathing in his scent gently, one hand reaching to knock the hat from his head. "What you say eez true, of course....but I was never one for playing by ze rules...."

"That right?" The Sniper stubbed his cigarette out on the wooden floor, blinking up at the dominating Frenchman.

"Oui...zat eez correct." One gloved hand was in the Australian's hair, stroking gently. The Frenchman's voice was at the other's ear, whispering ever so softly, teeth occasionally biting at an earlobe, "You are attractive to me...zis rugged exterior of yours....you are somezing I crave...zat I wish to explore. Think what you will, but you are no mere replacement....you interest me and I intend to 'ave you for my own...."

"Have me?" The older man growled, leaning back, away from the fellow assassin. His heart was pounding dangerous hard, he could feel the bottom dropping out of his stomach. The Spy smelt so strongly of cigarettes and French cologne.

"Oui....'ow shall i put zis...." A few moments to think and then, deep and growling, "I would like to fuck you, mon petit Sniper...."

All the Sniper could do was stare. Crinkled eyes fixed intently on the cool, European's, ".... w.. w... me?"

Cold eyes glanced around the room, they Spy's eyebrows raised slightly, as though surprised, "Zere eez not someone else in ze room eez zere? Anuzzer Spy per'aps?"

"No! Just, listen... I'm, well... I'm not you know.... not..." There was a pause and then the Australian managed to croak out, "Not that I'm not flattered!"

"Ah...you do not wish to? Not even after ze blowjob last night?" The thin Frenchman pulled away and hummed thoughtfully, "I apologise. I thought zat...things would..continue between us....I...was quite mistaken it seems...."

Another cigarette was lit as the other lightly walked over the wooden floor, shoes clicking with each step.

'... damnit,' The Sniper cursed himself, scrambling to his feet, not even sure what he was going to say, "Uh wait!"

"Hm?" A soft noise in the back of the Spy's throat. He cast a curious glance at the other, "Problem monsieur?"

"... I like cricket."

A pause. The Spy looked him over with serious eyes and then promptly burst out laughing, "Oh! Oh you are...you are too much...."

Gruffly the Sniper brushed off his sleeve, looking down at the Frenchman's well-heeled feet, "Y'just asked what I was inta.... is all...." 

He felt wounded, shot down.

"I know...I know...but...forgive me...eet just sounded so...adorable!! Ze way you said eet!!" A snort as the BLU tried to control himself, "For...forgive me! I...I do not know why zis...zis appears humorous to me....."

"...cause the French are bloody awful at cricket..." Sulkily the Sniper muttered to himself, scuffing his shoe.

"Oh...do not pout! Please...I...I just.,...give me a moment..." It was a while before the Spy could speak again. When he did, it was to clear his throat and dry his eyes, "Oh mon dieu....I 'ave...not laughed so 'ard for a while...."

"Glad I amuse ya, Spy... "

"'Ave I actually offended you? I...am truly sorry...I do not know what came over me...." The Spy was biting his lip, "Shall I just leave?"

"... please don't." The Australian murmured, looking at him awkwardly. He was a Sniper, the finest on either team, brave and masculine... but before the Spy he felt like a ridiculous, clumsy child. The ever present air of confidence and self assurance that constantly surrounded the Frenchman didn't help either. Once had that calm and collected demeanor dropped, but only that once. Otherwise, it seemed the Spy was constantly amused by everything around him. ".....I meant everyzing I say, mon Sniper...."

"Well... I ain't gonna lie t'ya. It felt bloody amazin..."

A smile, "My lips around you?"

The response came out on a shuddered breath, "Yeah......"

This time, when the Spy stepped closer, it was with a gentle air. He curled his hands softly around the Sniper to embrace him with those long limbs, "......We could do so much more zen zat...."

"Y'talkin... bout... that again?" The Sniper swallowed, whispering hoarsely. "Never... done that before..."

"I cannot 'elp eet. I am French." A low laugh. At least the Spy was taking it all with humour. If it had been a serious question, it would have probably been more intimidating.

After a pause, the Sniper choked out hoarsely, "What's it... like? Y'know..."

"'Aving sexual intercourse wiz anuzzer male? Well...ze actual making love eez such a wonderful feeling...but as to 'ow eet feels within? I 'ave no idea. I 'ave never been on ze bottom!" Another laugh.

"... I think it... could be ok..."

A soft smile from the Spy. The older male's nervousness to him was...almost cute, really. Gently, he nuzzled into the Sniper's neck, "I would like to 'elp you explore eet...."

"Explore? Y'wanna explore me?" Why did the Spy keep making statements that made the Australian choke on his words?

"I am sure zat zere eez quite possibly a language barrier between us that goes beyond ze French and Australian...." Still holding the Sniper, the Spy leaned in to whisper, "I already said I want to fuck you. Eez zere any reason for you to keep asking me?"

The excuse was stammered out, strained, "Because... no guy ever wanted that sort of thing from me before. I mean, I ain't that kinda guy. I don't attract that sort of guy..."

"But you do attract me, so I can make up for all ze years of not 'aving eet!"

"Well... no offence, y'aint a girl... I don't know what to do with this," The Sniper waved his hand along the Spy's lithe, suited body.

"Zat eez ze fun of eet...." A soft sigh, the Spy moving his hands across the other's thin form, "....exploration...."

The Australian shuddered, smiling weakly, "Feel free... all yours, Spy..."

"Come." Holding both the Sniper's hands, the Spy tugged gently, "You 'ave a bed in 'ere, oui? We move over to zere...I can explore you better zis way...."

Allowing himself to be pulled up, the Sniper nodded towards his bed in the corner. A big low double, mussed duvets, and a heap of pillows. He was guided by his French admirer over to that bed and then softly pushed down, one gloved hand pressing against his chest, made to lie upon the soft surface beneath him. Hands removed from the Sniper's thin form for a moment, the Spy's gloves were removed, his fingers already pulling apart his jacket, a serious expression on his face as he gazed down at the Australian on the bed, "Just relax....allow me to make you feel nothing like you 'ave ever felt, mon Sniper...."

"Touch me Spy..." A grin from the Sniper, him brushing a strong hand along the Frenchman's suited shoulder.

A smirk from the BLU, "Then remove those rags you call clothes, Sniper..."

Not taking his eyes off the Frenchman, the older man shed his jacket and t shirt, his hat already lay discarded on the floor, and his shades soon followed. He felt very open, naked without being naked. Many shallow and deep scars were cast all over his chest, from Spies, gunshots... he blushed. Then there came the most wonderful sight. Knelt above him, the Spy started to undress. His jacket was placed to one side, folded, followed by a waistcoat and his shirt. The pale chest was revealed, marked in some places, one tattoo - writing - upon one slender wrist. The mask was left on as the Spy started on his belt, sliding it off slowly...seductively.

Damn... it was fascinating watching him move. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced. Nothing like a women, better; graceful and powerful. He never thought he'd find another man this sexy. All the while, the Spy was smiling, pulling apart his trousers, allowing them to drop before kneeling upon the bed. Shoes and socks were removed also. Weapons lying on top of the pile of clothes, including that ever deadly knife. The only thing left on him was what appeared to be a watch. His cloaking device. The last security he had.

Eyeing him with intense curiosity, the Sniper pulled himself up on his elbows, reaching out to brush his long fingers down that strong, smooth body

A hiss of pleasure from the Frenchman, arching his back as he knelt there, eyes closing gently as the Sniper's fingers trailed down his stomach and chest. Smooth. Hairless. The body built for his profession. Thin and wiry. Chest rising and falling gently. Stomach tight. Eventually, his voice sounded from his throat, sounding so pleasured, "You 'ave good 'ands....just like I imagined, Monsieur..."

"Y'imagined me?" The Sniper was coming into his own, sounding cockier, less shaken. "I got terrible hands... used t'holdin guns and smokes..."

"But ze fingertips feel so rough upon my skin....I love eet. Makes me shiver...." The cobalt eyes of the Spy were open again, fixed on the Sniper intently, "....Also...if I were not imagining you....I would not be 'ere. I 'ave been thinking about your smell and your taste and 'ow your touch would feel since our little encounter last night....."

Grinning, the Australian sat up and pulled the younger man up against his bare chest, "Y'got a filthy mouth on ya, y'know that."

"You 'ave no idea....if you could speak French, I can assure you, you would 'ear much more....." A soft smile, the Spy letting out a soft moan with the contact, both hands now pressed firmly against the Sniper's shoulders, tattoo on his left wrist visible to the other.

Sucking in breath, the older assassin kissed him slowly, cautiously, "What's that say?"

"Hm?" The Spy glanced downwards, before smiling softly, "Ah...you would think me ze sentimental fool if I told you, monsieur."

"Got to tell me sometime..." The Sniper hadn't intended to sound that needy. His hands shook on the young Spy's body.

There was a pause and then the Spy knelt over the older male, leaning in close to his ear and whispering, "Love always! Love more! When love is gone, hope escapes us. Love is the cry of the dawn. Love is the hymn of the night."

Then he sat up again, held in the other's lap, and smiled softly, "Zat eez what it says."

"Now that is beautiful..." The Sniper was on him again, kissing him roughly, hands slipping round his body. Soft lips moved against his, hands gripping his shoulders tightly, before the Spy moved his kisses downwards, over that strong jaw line. Down to his neck, his collarbone, smiling and moaning gently, "I appreciate zat you like ze writings..."

"French is a... nice language... ..." An absent groan, the Sniper's voice catching in his throat under that delicate touch.

Another soft laugh. The Spy glanced up, "I am glad you think so, mon petit Sniper."

That laugh did nothing to make the RED less nervous. He choked, hands still brushing over the exposed flesh.

"I must say, you must be a very good Sniper...." Soft fingers brushed over flesh delicately, thumbing at every part of the other, the Spy continuing to kiss over every inch of him, "...You 'ardly 'ave any bad scars....and ze ones you do 'ave look very good on you indeed, sir."

Another few kisses, before the Spy gently brushed his lips over the Sniper's navel, teeth biting and nipping at the sensitive skin there, "Zere eez no part of you that I dislike as of yet, mon petite...."

"G.. good to know." The Sniper smiled gently, hissing at every bite and tough. "Damn, why are y'so good at this...?"

"I am glad you think I am good at zis...." Fingers slid below the Sniper's waistband, sly eyes glanced up at the Australian, "...But you already know 'ow my mouth feels down 'ere, non?"

"Yeah..." A long breath from the RED, him clearly hardening at the thought of those soft lips on him.

"Oh?" The reaction was clearly felt under curious fingers. A smile spread over the other's face, "....it seems your little friend 'ere remembers also..."

"Bloody 'ell Spy... why do you like to torment me... it's damned unfair..."

"Because you love eet." The response was simple. Trousers were removed, the Sniper's length revealed to the air, the BLU eyeing it greedily. Another smile, "And I...I love zis..."

Fingers curled around the shaft, gripping it.

"Damnit..." The Sniper shuddered, head dropping back onto the pillow, his eyes screwed shut, his legs twisting almost out of the way.

"Shh...I will make you feel good, non? Let you come in my mouth? Would you like zis?" Lips kissed at the sensitive tip, "Oh...you shiver at ze slightest touch."

"Yeah... cause I don't think I knew anyone as eager as ya... fuck, y'good with y'lips..."

This time the only response was for the Spy to take the entire tip into his mouth, tongue pressing gently against it, slicking the head with saliva. The bright gaze vanished as the Frenchman's eyes closed, him savouring the smell and taste of his sniper. Strong hands reached out to grip his head, fingers closing around the blue mask, his dark eyes fixed on the connection between those moist lips and his swollen erection.

"Sh... damnit..."

Even with something filling his mouth, the Spy always seemed to smirk, moving every inch of the Sniper inside him, deliberately slow. Sucking. Lapping. Each hum and noise vibrating around the shaft. It made the Australian moan and shudder, "Fuck, Spy... Spy... s'good... y'really fuckin good..."

The BLU bobbed his head lightly, now setting a pace, applying pressure and suction to the hard length inside his mouth, enjoying each noise and exclamation the sniper made. Strange how he'd fallen for the same profession on the opposite team twice. It was almost fate to the Spy. Tugging at the mask that obscured the Spy's face, the Australian growled, pushing up into that tight wet mouth of his.

The material slipped a little bit, revealing gelled back blonde hair and a part of a strong cheek bone, but the Spy didn't seem to notice. He was too engrossed in his task at hand, determined to bring the Sniper off swiftly and quickly, so he could move on to something better, something more...was fun the word?

Making a hurried, shuddered decision, the Sniper pushed his face softly, and slid himself out of that perfect mouth, groaning as he did, "Wait."

"Hmm?" The Spy pulled back, sitting up over the Sniper's knees again, a confused expression on his face as he finally adjusted his mask.

He needn't have bothered. The older man awkwardly knelt up so he was facing the delicate Frenchman. His hand, nervous at first, slid under the fabric and slipped it up and over the Spy's head, revealing his strong face to the dim light of the nest.

"Mon dieu!" The Spy fell back off the bed, activating his cloaking device immediately, his hurried breathing the only sound from him on the floor.

The Sniper dropped back swearing, his hand raised in acceptance, "M'sorry... sorry... I didn't mean t'... damnit."

He brought his hand up to his face and groaned, he'd fucked up... already!

The Spy was breathing hard, before he shakily spoke out, "I...I am sorry, mon petite...I do not usually...I mean I 'ave never...."

A sigh. He seemed to be searching for the right words, "...Why did you do zat?"

".... I wanted... t'see your face," it was true. That was what he wanted, he wanted to see and touch the younger man's face. What he had seen in the split second before invisibility, had looked strong, perfect... beautiful.

If the Spy was angry, his voice did not show it. Instead he sounded so...disappointed? Saddened? When he spoke, it was with a desperate air, "A Spy's mask...eet eez like...an unwritten code to 'im...you..I believe you mean no...ill intent by eet, but what if you were to decide zat you wish to betray me and tell my enemies what I look like? Eet...is a risk I cannot take, mon ami"

Then a pause before the Spy cursed in English, "Shit....zat came out wrong...I know you would not betray me...but a week or so eez not enough time to truly know you or me.....'owever...if you wish...I can think of an...alternate solution to zis problem?"

Holding out his hand to the place the air had warped and swallowed the assassin, the Sniper looked pained.

"Yeah..." His voice was hoarse, "Anything... just... c'm back 'ere."

There was movement, the sound of the naked male standing up and padding over to somewhere in the room, then the blinds coming down over the Sniper's window, enveloping the room in darkness. The cloaking device was deactivated, revealing the thin frame of the Spy, outlined in the darkness. Soon, hands were on the sniper's, taking the mask from him and placing it with the rest of the BLU's clothes on the chair. A gentle touch to the RED's face, "You are shaking....you were scared, mon ami? Why?"

"S'dark... I can't see y'face... didn't wantcha t'be mad at me," he muttered, his hand reached up to find the Spy's exposed skin.

The hand upon one of the Sniper's led him to touch along the Spy's face. A soft sigh, "I am not mad at you....I understand completely...'ere...touch me...feel me...I will allow zis...for you...only for you..."

That really did make the Australian shiver, he felt colder now, more exposed, even in the darkness, "I'm sorry... I shoulda understood..."

".....I do not mind zis...please...do not let eet bother you, mon petite...I still wish to...continue with you..." The Spy's voice was so gentle, his hands still closed around the Sniper's, pressing the Australian's fingers into his face, into his hair. It was almost better this way, in the dark he couldn't see the older man blushing, he couldn't see how nervous he was. And it felt so good being able to touch such a secret part of him. He swore he could hear his heart pounding in the quiet of the room.

"... y'sure? Y'still... wanna do this?"

"Of course. I still fully intend to take you, my sweet..." A low chuckle, "Although...I should take you 'arder as punishment, non?"

The Spy was teasing as usual. The Sniper laughed gently, "Heh.... go easy with me... I'm... pretty new to this..."

Then the hands were on the Sniper's chest, pushing him back onto the bed, the Frenchman's form lying over his, kissing and sucking at the Australian's neck.

"Damn... Spy," Rough hands reached up to grip him around his slender body, ribs exposed through his soft skin. His weight was reassuring, feeling wonderful against his tense body.

"No more interruptions...just me and you, mon tirieur embusque, now zen...turn around...." The Sniper was guided onto his hands and knees, the Spy moving to kneel behind him, stroking across the flesh of his rear. ".....I will...be gentle...I promise..."

".......'k." The tension was noticeable, the Sniper shuddering, feeling as if the Spy could see every inch of him even in the pitch dark.

In truth, the Spy was nervous too, slowly sucking on his own fingers, trying to get them slick enough for what he wanted. One digit probed gently at the Sniper, getting him used to the feeling, occasionally pressing harder, opening him up, then pulling out. The BLU knew not to push him too hard on his first time. Let him get used to the feeling first.

"Shit.... h.. how many fingers is that?" He sounded strained, his head dropping down onto his chest, his arms and legs trembling.

"Just ze one." Smiling, the Spy pressed harder, inserting the whole finger, then slid it out again gently. This slow process continued until the Spy could move in and out without causing the sniper any discomfort, then a second finger joined the first. "....Zis...may sting."

"Ah... hh.. fuck..." He choked, fingers curling around the loose sheets. "Bloody... 'ell... it's too much..."

"Eet...will get better...I promise..." The Spy's other hand spread the Sniper gently for himself, both fingers now stretching the other's entrance, feeling that tightness engulf them. For a moment, the Spy mused on how it would feel around his cock.

Taking a moment to catch his breath the Australian forced his body to relax, cautiously pushing back against those skilled fingers, "Right.... sorry... it's... ok, it's ok..."

With a smile, the Spy pushed his fingers all the way inside, pressing against that bundle of nerves that he knew would have the effect he desired. The sooner the sniper was screaming and writhing in his grasp, the better. His body jerking almost clean out of the Spy's grasp, the Sniper shook and yelped, "Fuck... wh.. what th'fuck ...?"

He was pulled back, the Spy unmerciful in this particular assault, fingers delving deep within him. The Frenchman chuckled darkly, "My apologies...per'aps I should warn you zat sometimes zis can 'appen?"

"What the fuck was that, Spy?" His voice was almost troubled, his throat raw from groaning.

"Eet eez what will make zis whole experience wonderful for you...." When he was sure that the sniper had calmed down, the Spy pressed his fingers deep inside again, wanting to hear that delicious moaning once more. He was already achingly hard, wanting nothing more than to thrust in and fuck his Sniper, feeling that hot tightness around his cock instead of his fingers, but he would have to be patient. He knew that the other wouldn't be able to handle it just yet. The older Australian was so pleased that it was dark, that the Frenchman couldn't see his face. He was flushed a deep red, sweat breaking on his forehead, his mouth hung open desperate for that pleasure again. He snarled, "That what it feels like? Gettin fucked in the arse?"

"Not ze choice of words I would 'ave used, but I suppose I can tell you zat ze feelin of....'ow you say...'getting fucked' eez better by far...." The fingers slid out, the Spy kneeling up and positioning himself, biting his lip, eager. His tip pressed against the other's entrance, his voice barely above a whisper, "Although...you are about to find out what zat feels like...."

Tensing noticeably, his hands pushed deeper into the bed sheets, the Australian sucked in breath, they were really going to do this, "Sh...shit... Spy..."

"Relax...I won't lie to you...zis will 'urt..." A soft moan, "But eet will feel beautiful soon..."

"Right.... ok..." The Sniper smiled in the darkness, stilling his body to assist the other. Softly, the Spy pressed himself inside, just a few inches at first, enough to let him adjust before moving on. In his mind, he was thinking about how tight the Australian truly was, how wonderful he felt around him. The Sniper fell silent, his breathing heavy as he tried not to be afraid of the pain.

"Shh....relax...you feel...so wonderful inside, mon ami" Another few inches, fingers gripping hips.

"Oh.... God......." Arching his spine like a stretching dog the Sniper felt the groans rumbling in his chest.

"That's eet....slowly...slowly...." The Spy let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in, shivering and moaning softly.

"Spy it's too much..." A low whine, the Australian not even sure what he meant. That he was too big, that it was too much at once, or that this whole day was too much?

"Non non...eet will get better...I promise..." In truth, the Spy wasn't sure if he could stop now. The Sniper just felt too good around him. Tight and hot. Clenching and squeezing around him. It took all the restraint he had to keep going at the slow and steady pace.

"....... 'k.." The Sniper shuddered, relaxing again to accept more.

That did it. Snapping his hips forwards suddenly, the Spy thrust all the way inside, letting out a soft "mon dieu" at the feeling of the other around him.

"Oh fucking... shit..." A staggered cursing hiss escaped the older assassin, his body clamping down around the Frenchman. His arms were giving out, one reaching back to grip the younger's slender hip, holding him there.

"Mon....mon dieu....you feel...so wonderfully tight, mon amour...." As soon as he uttered the words, the Spy bit his lip, praying the Australian hadn't heard the slip.

"... don't... that mean?" The Sniper gasped, still focusing on the invasion.

Choosing not to answer, the BLU's fingers tightened their grip and the Spy thrust forwards a little too harshly, gritting his teeth. He couldn't let the Sniper question things too much. Admitting your love to someone in a war and on the opposite team was a surefire path to heartache - he'd learnt that already.

"F..fu..ck..." in the dark the pain in the Sniper's voice was read almost entirely in his voice, and in the rough cut nails digging into the Spy's naked side.

"You are...so tight..." Gritting his teeth, the Frenchman snapped his hips forwards again, this time starting to build up to a regular pace, wanting the sniper to feel how wonderful it could be. The pain was steadily being overwhelmed by the intense pleasure that only the Spy could give him. The bushman snarled, falling forward onto his forearms, unable to support the onslaught. Now overpowering the other, the Spy was eager to thrust in harder, faster. He dug his fingers into flesh, pulled the Sniper back against him again and again, let out soft murmurs in French and English.

"Damnit Spy... it's... fucking... ... fuck..." tears stung the corners of his eyes, he’d be sore tomorrow. But now he couldn't stop his body from pushing back to meet with each skilled thrust.

"Oui...I believe zat eez ze....English term for eet...." A low groan from the BLU. He wouldn't last long.

Shakily, the Sniper took his hand away from the Frenchman's hip, to stroke himself. He needed his release, he knew he'd make a mess of his beds, but it felt so fucking good.

The sight of the Sniper stroking himself like that...

"Mon dieu..." A breathy whisper. The pace quickening. Release needed. The Spy switching between French and English as his control over his own lust slipped away, "You...you are...tu es beau....je veux....I...I need..I want...mon dieu..."

"Fucking, Spy... " The Sniper snarled, giving up on pushing back, just accepting whatever he was give, fist pumping out of time with the thrusts. The Sniper was just so desperate to come, he'd never been so turned on before. Who knew sex with another man could feel this good. It hurt like a bitch, but he supposed that's what you paid.

"Oui....zat...eez...what I am....oh...c'est du bon...." Whatever witty response the Spy had been trying to utter was cut off with a groan of pleasure in his native tongue. He arched his spine, pushing as deep as he could possibly go inside the other, eyes closing in the purest of pleasure.

Nearly....there......

With an unsteady, almost shocked noise the Sniper found completion, his arms hurting from the joint effort of holding his body up and jerking himself off. He was so hard, if he'd had more time to think the Sniper would have marveled at how long and how much he came, but now wasn't the time. Not when there was a Spy fucking him senseless and finding his own release inside him, the fluid dripping down the Sniper's thighs as the French male pulled out, uttering a soft cry.

Collapsing onto the Australian, the BLU breathed hard, deep, feeling the warm body of the RED beneath him. "....Incredible..."

"...y'..tellin..me," There was such a smile in that Australian voice; breathless and weak, but so happy. The Spy made no move to leave at least. Instead he was fumbling with his clothes on the chair, searching the pockets. A flame lit up the room suddenly, revealing the shadows dancing across a thin French face, hair messed from its gelled state, eyes so gentle as they lovingly placed fire to the end of a cigarette, every defining bone in his face allowing a dark shape to flicker over it.

It was an error, something the Spy had not intended for the other to see, but as the flame died along with the light, and the smell of smoke drifted around the pair, it was clear he hadn't even noticed his own slip.

"... light me up one... would ya?" Still rasping and finding it difficult to move, the Sniper groaned to him as he fell onto his back, tugging his messed duvet around his body. So desperate to see those features again.

"'Ere." In the darkness, a hand found his face, and a cigarette was placed between his lips. The lit one. There was more fumbling and then the flame flickered once more, giving the Sniper another fleeting glance of the other's face as he lit up a second cigarette.

Once in the darkness, the Spy let out a happy sigh, "Zere eez nuzzing like ze after sex cigarette."

"Not 'ad one in a while..." it was true. Not since he'd left home had the Australian physically done it with anyone. He never thought he could succumb to another man's charms the way he had today. Wanking was different, there was no hard in letting your mind wander while your hands worked. But this had been a whole other game, the moisture on his thighs, and the distinct ache in his arms and back-side were proof of that. He'd been literally fucked by the enemy... and he wanted nothing more.

How long the pair lay there was anyone’s guess. Time ticked away and the sounds of war continued on outside, finally noticed as the comfortable silence hung over both Sniper and Spy.

Eventually there was movement as the Spy redressed himself, cleaning his length with a pocket handkerchief before discarding it, and then the bright light of the outside world filtered back inside as the blinds were drawn back. The Spy was fully dressed again. Immaculate as usual, looking out over the battlefield, "Ah! Ze war continues!"

The Sniper tugged the duvet over his body, hating the new feeling of the sunshine on his skin. The dark represented his time with the Spy. A sudden horror washed over him. What if this had been it, if this had been the first and last time. He blinked dumbly at the Frenchman, striking such a powerful silhouette against the bright window. The cut of his suit, the immaculate posture, the way his long gloved fingers looked when wrapped around a cigarette... it was so wrong how attractive the Sniper found him. But he couldn't stop, "Y'... y'off?"

"Hm? Trying to get rid of me already? One would think zat you -" A knock at the door cut the Spy off in mid sentence. The cobalt eyes widened, casting a frightened glance over to the Sniper, before the cloaking device was activated. There was movement and the Spy's presence could be felt next to the bed, crouched down low, his breath shaking, "...eet...eet could be 'im...ze RED Spy....'e...'e knocked last time...the time when 'e....oh mon dieu..."

It was strange to hear that terror in the normally calm and composed voice. An invisible hand brushed the Sniper's thigh, "......answer 'im.."

Briefly touching the invisible arm, the Australian slid out of bed, dragging his rough dressing gown over his bare body. First ensuring his door was firmly on its chain and his knife was safely in his hand. He put a hand on the handle.

"Who is it?" His voice was rough, he felt strangely protective. If it was the RED Spy, he'd hurt his BLU enough already, and he wasn't about to let it happen again. The fear in his lover's voice had startled him, shocked him out of his comfortable haze.

"Who'd ya think it is, dumbass?" A strong young American accent. The RED Scout. The Sniper let out a quiet sigh of relief. The Scout was a good enough kid. Mouthy, cocky, but one of the few members of his team that the Australian could tolerate. Opening the door slowly, but still on the chain he looked into the corridor, wishing he had his shades on; it made him feel even more naked letting the kid see his eyes. They weren't anything special but the yellowed lenses let him keep a little of himself back, "What d'you want kid?"

Poking his nose in through the door, the Scout pouted, and then glanced up at the Australian. "You been wankin' in here again? Dude. No wonder the blinds were down over yer window. I got worried...thought that...."

It was clear exactly what he'd thought. According to the RED Medic, the Scout had been the one who'd found the old Sniper's body, all torn and slashed apart. The blinds had been down again that day.

The young teen shook his head, "....Never mind....just fuckin' clear up and get back in the war, dude! We're already one man down, ya know? That damn Spook didn't show up on th' field today, so fuck knows what'll happen if the BLU Spook shows his ugly mug!"

"Heh sorry kid... long day and all..." the Sniper smiled, ruefully before stopping. "Wait. Who went down?"

"Th' damn Spook! He ain't shown up ta th' field today." The Scout pouted, folding his arms, "Then again...neither did their own Spook...or their Scout...so we kinda got an advantage so far...that's if you'd stop wankin'."

"Right, right I getcha. Get back out there kid, I'll be ready in a sec. Stay safe ok."

"Sure. Whatever, Camper! See ya!" The Scout was off again, clearly not wanting to stick around to watch the other getting re-dressed. Behind the Sniper the BLU Spy slowly shimmered into view on his chair again as the door closed. Making sure the door was firmly bolted in place, the Sniper turned to him, letting out another sigh of relief, "... heh.... we got pretty worked up over nothin, eh?"

"Hm..." A soft smile playing on the French male's face, "...I can never be too cautious zese days..."

"I understand..." The older man had to admit that he'd been feeling more nervous and on-edge since the revelation about his team's Spy came out. He'd been checking every shadow, making sure his knife was with him at all times. "Still... looks like you were right about your Scout..."

"Hm. After I left your nest yesterday, I stuck around a while. Found my Scout. Rescued 'im. 'E eez not in battle today. Recovering." The Spy's expression had darkened, the cigarette being flicked onto the floor and put out underfoot before a new one was lit in its place, "...zat bastard Spy thinks 'e can ruin my life...thinks 'e owns ze fort..."

"Looks like you Spies take y'vendetta's pretty seriously..." The Sniper mused rummaging through his draws to find something akin to clean clothes.

"Hm..." Another thoughtful noise, ".......'E eez intent on ruining my life..."

Then under his breath, "...'as been doing so for years."

Even that wasn't lost on the older assassin, "But... he's only been on this team a couple'a months..."

"........" The Spy realised he'd slipped up. Again and again he seemed to be doing that. His gaze fell from the Sniper to the floor. Expression hard like stone.

"Spy?"

".......If I tell you....you...you keep ze secret, oui?" When the Spy looked up again, his expression had changed. His eyes were like cold steel. "......You keep eet and you never tell anyone..."

"I'm keepin enough secrets as it is..." There was a bitter humour there, the Sniper knew he'd be gutted alive if anyone knew what he'd done with the BLU Spy.

"......Ze truth eez....me and ze RED Spy...'ave known each uzzer for years..." The Spy's English was halting again. The words were hurting him to even be uttered, "....For a lifetime....and for zis...lifetime..'e 'as made eet so zat I can never be 'appy...following me from place to place...finding out where I am and what eet eez I do...you understand?"

"... y'grew up together?" The Sniper halted his changing, padding over in just his t shirt and pants.

"Oui."

Sitting on the bed, almost within touching distance of the younger man, the Australian breathed, "And... he hates ya?"

A shake of the head from the BLU, "Non. Not exactly..."

The Spy seemed to be searching for the right words, "...'E...'E loves me...a lot...I think...but 'e 'urts everything zat I love and desire...you understand? Wants me all to 'imself I'd imagine...not zat 'e 'asn't 'ad me to 'imself since we left 'ome..."

"Home? Y'family with that... guy?" The Sniper had hardly had any contact with the young RED Frenchman, but he was painfully aware of the stories. How he played with his prey like a cat. The worst kind of assassin; childish and petty... he shook his head.

It was then that the Spy looked up with such sorrow and sadness that everything seemed to fall into place.

Why the BLU Spy never attempted an assassination on the RED Spy...

Why the RED was allowed to get away with murder, leading the BLU to take the blame and rather throw himself out of a window than confront the other....

When he spoke, the BLU Spy shared a burden that had gone on for years, ".....'E eez my younger bruzzer....."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be adding a few side chapters into this mix. Just so the storyline can continue. :3


	4. Step Too Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The information had come as a shock to the RED Sniper. Hearing the revelation from the BLU Spies own mouth. That he and the RED Spy were related. That the RED would not stop until he destroyed his brother and every person his brother loved. It seemed like something out of a movie, only it was happening here at 2Fort, and the Sniper did not know what to think any more.
> 
> One part of him told himself that he should not care, that this was one of the BLU Spy's problems and not his, that he could quit the other at any given time and go back to the way things had been before he'd started sleeping with the enemy. Then there was the logical side of him that knew he'd already gone too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who get a little confused by the Spy's statements, there was a side chapter that we wrote in which the RED Spy rapes his older brother. I don't think it really has a place here, so maybe I'll think of uploading it here some other time? I'm usually kind of hesitant to post things like that.

The information had come as a shock to the RED Sniper. Hearing the revelation from the BLU Spies own mouth. That he and the RED Spy were related. That the RED would not stop until he destroyed his brother and every person his brother loved. It seemed like something out of a movie, only it was happening here at 2Fort, and the Sniper did not know what to think any more.

 

One part of him told himself that he should not care, that this was one of the BLU Spy's problems and not his, that he could quit the other at any given time and go back to the way things had been before he'd started sleeping with the enemy. Then there was the logical side of him that knew he'd already gone too far.

 

When he thought about the BLU, he would at first think of his suspicions towards the other, about the other's ulterior motives, about how and when the Spy would kill him. Lately these thoughts had changed to how the Spy's lips felt, how he smelled, how warm he was, until the Sniper had found that he would never be able to quit the BLU even if the situation with him was dangerous.

 

He remembered how sad his Spy had been explaining everything to him. How open he'd been. No secrets kept even from the enemy. The RED could have used this information for anything, yet he did not, and the Spy had trusted him not to - actually trusted the enemy!!!

 

That was, of course, if what he'd told the Australian had been true. He could have been using it to twist the older man around his finger. Forcing him to feel sympathy, toying with him, then killing him? No, it didn't make sense. He shook his head and growled, damn Spy getting into his head this way.

 

Nothing the Frenchman did every made any sense. If he'd wanted to kill the Sniper, he could have done it by now, and yet he did not. It had been three weeks since he'd first met the other, and most of the time the Spy had spoken to him casually in his nest, merely making conversation. Then there had been the kissing and the licking and the sucking, until finally it had all come down to what had happened three days ago. 

 

The RED wasn't sure that love bloomed in a mere three weeks, but he knew that he was falling hard for the BLU Spy and nothing he could do could stop it. For the third time that combat, he moved to check that his door was locked. He knew that if the Spy wanted to get in, he'd find his ways, and the last thing the Sniper wanted was for a member of his team (or worse, the BLUs) to come barrelling in when he was feeling vulnerable. Of course the three day gap between today and the Spy's last visit was still worrying him. He flung himself down into his chair, not feeling the combat that day.

 

Something moved outside - a bird perhaps? - and then was silent. Before slowly, gently, the sound of someone rummaging about near the door became audible, the door handle turning and twisting until the door itself swung open revealing...nothing. Just the empty air. Then it closed again and seemed to lock itself before the air shimmered with the blue tint and the BLU Spy breathed out a sigh of relief, patting down his suit.

 

"Subtle." The Sniper was getting cocky, not even bothering to get up from his chair. he knew where his knife was if he needed it. But also he knew that a Spy could be deadly fast when he wanted to be.

 

"Why did you lock ze door? Are you making challenges for me now? Do you want me to start making ze effort to show you how much I want you?" The French accent was teasing, light hearted as always. The BLU was smoking a cigarette as per usual.

 

"It was in case anyone else felt like bothern me."

 

"Ah. Good thing I locked it again zen, non?" A soft chuckle. The Spy moved across the wooden floor, shoes clicking lightly, and then curled his long arms around the Sniper's neck. He seemed slightly more clingy than usual. Not as cocky. Content to just nuzzle into the back of the other's neck and inhale deeply.

 

Up until that point, the Sniper had been determined to call it off. To tell the BLU Spy to get out, so that he could live this war in peace. But feeling that comforting weight pressed against him, he shivered.

 

Not a word passed between them both for quite some time. Conversation was usually awkward due to the Sniper's suspicion that the other was out to kill him, but this time it seemed even more tense than usual. The Frenchman cleared his throat, "I confess, monsieur, I enjoyed what I did wiz you more zan I thought I would."

 

Strange how the first conversation was to be about this sudden confession. Why did the Spy think it was appropriate to do this now?

 

"Y'mean the other day?" The Sniper swallowed, his heart rate picking up, he knew the Spy would want to talk about it. 'It' had felt pretty damned amazing, but now, in the cold light of day, the older man felt embarrassed.

 

"Oui. Unless zere eez anuzzer event you are thinking of?" A soft smile. Then more silence. Nothing to follow that. An admission and then...nada. The Spy apparrantly had just wanted to get that statement out in the open.

 

"Well... it was... good for me too." Shutting his eyes, the Sniper let the young Frenchman rest against him, determined not to bring up the last scrap of information the Spy had given him. It was the last thing he needed.

 

The Spy laughed, "Zis is most strange, non? We are enemies, yet I feel closer to you zan even ze team I 'ave known for two years."

 

"I guess, some people just don't gel with their teams."

 

"Non. Especially if you are ze Spy. Zen ze world turns ze back on you." The BLU did not seem unhappy by this, nor even fazed by it, yet there was a melancholy air about him today. He was not his usual self, even pressing closer to the Sniper, closing his eyes and inhaling the other's scent deeply. The strange and sudden need to be intimate was welcomed, but it was also unnatural for the Spy to act this way. Even during intercourse, there was never a soft word spoken between them, save a confirmation that it was enjoyable or two.

 

"Y'alright Spy?"

 

"Of course. Why would you think uzzerwise?" As though coming out of his daze, the BLU leaned back, releasing his hold on the Sniper somewhat.

 

The Australian bit his lip, choosing his words carefully. It was never easy to get information out of Spy's. "Just. Thought y'seemed a bit out of it. Was a bit worried."

 

Another shake of the head, "Do not concern yourself wiz me, mon petit sniper. I often zink too much about things. For now I suppose I 'ave missed you more zan I care to admit, and I am quite content in just feeling you zere for once."

 

"You... missed me? Really?" He didn't mean to sound so pathetic, but the Spy's words stunned him a little.

 

"Oui. One does not reveal 'is face in darkness and spill secrets to a man he will not miss." The Spy shifted a little, stepping back and lighting another cigarette, crushing the other one into the ashtray on one of the sniper's tables. His hands were shaking. 

 

Nervous?

 

No. Something was definately not right. Something had shaken the BLU Spy's usual grace and poise and had somehow terrified him to the point where he had needed some form of comfort, even if it was from a RED.

 

"Spy." The RED's voice dropped to a warning tone, he wasn't aware he had, least of all able to use on the BLU Spy. "Somethin's up."

 

"What? 'Ere?" The Spy's cobalt eyes gazed around nervously.

 

"Somethin's wrong. Don't lie t'me."

 

There was more silence and then the Spy sighed, "You, monsieur, will be ze death of me. I am usually able to hide myself from uzzers, but you can read me so well it seems."

 

A soft growl, "Always been good at readin people. Just cause ya wear a mask."

 

The BLU smiled gently and then sighed, sitting down in one of the stoolds in the nest. He ran one gloved hand over his masked head, as though smoothing back the hair underneath, and puffed on his cigarette more so. Whatever it was that had been bothering him, it was certainly something that he needed to think about before speaking, "...I 'ad a little run in wiz mon frere, I mean, my bruzzer a night ago."

 

"You... met with our Spy?" That had been unexpected.

 

"Oui. In ze town."

 

"I see." The Sniper wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that, he dug his nails into the arm of his chair.

 

It must not have been the ideal meeting, for the Spy had fallen silent again, his cold eyes locked onto the floor, unable to look the Sniper in the eye. Once or twice, he glanced up at the Sniper and opened his mouth as though to speak, before changing his mind. Thinking carefully. 

 

When he did regain his tongue, his eyes trailed upwards to catch the Australian's own in their gaze, so sad, almost haunted, "....'E followed me back to ze BLU base."

 

"What? He went back to your base?" The older man stared at him. Did the Sniper really want to hear more?

 

"Hm." A nod. The Frenchman leaned back and took a long drag on his cigarette, the hand holding it shaking, his eyes downcast again. There was lonliness and confusion in those cobalt eyes, "I am not sure why I feel ze need to tell you zis. I thought about telling you straight away, but could not for ze life of me justify why I would spill my thoughts to my enemy, but I could not even tell my own teammates. No one to talk to. 'Owever, I just thought you needed to know."

 

"Needed t'know what? Spy? What happened." The Sniper's voice shook as he looked down, away from that steel blue stare.

 

"'E disguised 'imself as ze old Sniper. Came to me when I was in bed. Crept into my room." A choke from the Spy. Tears started to fall. Those jacket covered shoulders were shaking along with his head, almost violently, "Even wiz all my expertise...even wiz ze knowledge zat dead people did not come back to life...desipte training...I actually let myself believe it was 'im! Because...because I loved 'im...and I was lonely...and I 'onestly just wanted...wanted 'im to not be..."

 

It was a soulful confession that the Sniper hung on the every word of, letting the Spy cry into his hands and getting out all his emotion before continuing. By that point, of course, it was obvious what was coming next. Not something that the Sniper wanted to hear, but knew he had to.

 

From behind frightened sobs, the Spy continued, "I was so confused and saddened at first, but I knew it was 'im. I felt ze mask beneath zat hologram. Zen...zen 'e threatened me and forced me inside 'im. Raped 'is own bruzzer. Is sickening, non? Someone's bruzzer doing zat to zem? I felt so much sorrow, but zere was no one to 'elp. No one but...but you. I needed to see you as soon as I felt I could...face you again."

 

That, sick twisted fuck. For a moment, the Sniper could not speak, only listen and shake and pray that what was being said was all some horrible sick joke that the French liked to play, but the BLU's tears and sudden breaking down of all the walls between them told him his worst fears. It had been true. Trembling with rage, the Australian rose from his chair and reached for his blade, unable to process the multitude of thoughts that were running through his head, "Yeah... is sickening."

 

The Spy flinched at the sudden motion, standing and pulling out his butterfly knife, his cobalt eyes wide with shock. Misreading the situation obviously. He was shaking, "Mon...mon Sniper...I...I am sorry if I 'ave sickened you..."

 

"No. Not you." It was strange. The Sniper couldn't quite understand why this had made him so angry.

 

Was he outraged that someone could do this to their brother?

 

Or was it just because of the sudden realisation of how he actually felt for the Spy? 

 

He moved to the door.

 

"What are you doing?" The Frenchman's mouth was open wide, "Please...I am sorry. I...do not leave me. I will leave you. I promise!"

 

"Can't believe he'd do that to you." Turning to that sorrowful face, the Sniper growled, baring his teeth, "I'm gonna go and show him a lesson."

 

"Non! You cannot!" Within seconds the gloved hands were over the RED's, pulling him back inside, urgency and horror in that French accent, a tone that the Sniper had never heard before, "If you do zis, zen ze company will find out about us! We will be put to death! I will not be able to see you again! Please...please...you do not realise zis but...but I need you...for zis moment..."

 

The Spy's frenetic terror almost knocked him out of his rage. Staring at him for a moment, the Australian bolted the door again, "... Sorry."

 

Once that small danger had passed, the Spy's hands left the other and he stepped back, apparrantly shaken himself. He shook his head, trying to regain his professional air, trying to compose himself. 

 

It was a while before he could breathe properly again, before the tears were wiped away and the Spy coughed to clear his throat, trying to think without the emotional baggage getting in the way. Proffessionalism was key, "Going out zere all bushman-like would only get us both killed. I will deal wiz my bruzzer in my own time. I first need to get my 'ead around you."

 

"Round me?! After what he fuckin did to ya!" His anger was tough to contain, the RED Sniper couldn't stop himself from feeling this was about the Frenchman.

 

"Please. Let me keep some of my pride. I will deal with 'im. I promise you zis." The BLU seated himself in the chair once more, lighting up another cigarette.

 

"...In truth, I did a lot of thinking after zis incident, yet it was not about mon frere as I would 'ave, non, probably should 'ave been thinking about. I thought about you, mon Sniper. I though about us. I wonder...where can you see zis going?" Leaning back against the chair again, the Spy rolled his cigarette between his fingers, "Me and you 'ave been talking and...exploring, shall we say, for over three weeks now. Nearly ze month, non? Where can you see us ending up?"

 

"Ending up?" The question had thrown him. "What do ya mean?"

 

"You and I? Are we to go back to being enemies? Or per'aps we are becoming more zen friends now? More zen relieving each uzzer's stress. You know what I mean, monsieur." Now those cold eyes were locked onto the Sniper.

 

"Don't think we can go back to being enemies." He sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "And I figured we just skipped the bein friends part..."

 

A laugh from the Frenchman, "Oui. We did."

 

"So I guess that just means..."

 

"I fear I am more attracted to you zen I first thought. Zat you now mean ze same to me as ze previous sniper did." Blunt. The Spy spoke so bluntly, "Despite ze short weeks, I feel I know you better zan anyone on either team."

 

"Don't know whether that's a good thing or not." The Sniper smirked bitterly. "I've never been in this position before."

 

"Hm. Well zat eez for you to decide. I 'ave already told you what I think of you, so you may make up your own mind of whezzer my feelings are returned. Zis will not stop me coming 'ere either way." A wide smile from the BLU, him stalking over to the Sniper softly.

 

Now that did please the old Australian. He smiled back, turning to face the young Frenchman. "That's good. Wouldn't want ya to go away."

 

"You love ze spice I bring to your life, non?" The Spy was grinning now, already pressing the sniper back onto the bed, gloved hands trailing over soft skin. 

 

The tension that had torn up the air between them moments before was nearly gone. All that remained was the problem they'd always had. One was RED, the other was BLU.

 

"I just... love ya bein around." The older man accepted the hand gladly. "Sad of me, just ta enjoy spendin some calm alone time with another person?"

 

"Non. Is not sad. As I mention time and time again, eet is human nature zat brings us togezzer. I do not wish to die horribly in a war, and neizzer do you, so zis seems to be ze better arrangement, non?" Already the Spy was removing his own gloves, placing them neatly to the side of him on the chair, the buttons on his jacket pulled open.

 

The Australian couldn't help but gaze up at him, he had to admit these past three weeks had been the strangest and most intensely brilliant of his life.

 

His French lover was always smiling, seemingly getting the best out of whatever life threw at him, so suave and gentle and almost loving. Whether or not it was still all an act no longer seemed to matter. The Spy knelt over the Sniper and tossed jacket and waistcoat to one side.

 

Were they going to do this again? Truth be told, the Sniper would have happily screwed around with him all day, every day. But the Spy was always in control, always knew how to treat him right.

 

"Remove zat jacket, mon amour..." Another nickname? The same one he'd accidentally blurted out last time, French voice thick with lust, each word rolling off his tongue, "Eet eez in ze way."

 

With a smirk, the older man obeyed, throwing his battered jacket onto the floor, laying back for him. Gently the Spy loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing that pale smooth chest, the mask that he wore gripping his neck tightly. One hand moved up the Sniper's red t-shirt to brush his bare fingertips against the other's flesh.

 

The Spy always had such cool hands, the Sniper couldn't help but shudder and flinch away. His body felt too sensitive to recieve such ministrations.

 

"Now ze shirt. Take all zis off. I want to explore you. I want to know mon amour inside and out. Every inch." This time the Spies voice dropped lower still, almost whispering huskily.

 

Gods his voice was filthy when he spoke like that. Instantly the Sniper thought of how his body had felt, stretching around the Frenchman as he was fucked. He shut his eyes and tugged his shirt over his head.

 

Sometimes, it was like the other could read his mind, smiling at every single motion the RED made. The Spy pulled back to unhook his own belt and remove his own trousers, leaving him in his mask, socks, and watch. He motioned to the Sniper's own trousers. A silent order.

 

Smiling awkardly and looking away, the older man unbuckled himself, dropping his trousers down his thighs.

 

Those cold cobalt eyes watched him almost hungrily. It would be hard to hold back, but the Frenchman felt he could manage it somehow. This time the socks and the watch came off also. There would always be the danger that the Sniper would want to see his face again, but after the last time that had happened and what had followed it, the Spy felt he could at least show another small sign of trust.

 

Stretching back, the Sniper kicked off the last of his clothes, only his socks holding back the shivers. Was it nerves or cold that stopped his body from keeping still?

 

Then the Spy was leaning over him, fingers stroking through his hair and trailing over his face, as though mapping out every inch of his rough features. Each path that the fingers traced was followed by soft kisses.

 

"This what ya had in mind Spy?"

 

"Oui. I will know you and you will...know me." A pause before the last part. Hesitance as the fingers brushed over the Sniper's collarbone, lips and teeth connecting with the Australian's neck.

 

Fuck, he'd hit a sensitive spot. The Sniper jerked and gasped softly, "Will I?" Could you ever know a Spy?

 

There was no answer to that. Teeth now touched across a shoulder, fingers gentle as they pressed against the strong chest, grazing the Sniper's nipples. Nipping at the Australian's navel, moving so teasingly slow. Covering every inch beneath that supposedly expert touch. Downwards slowly, almost reaching the point that the Sniper was inwardly begging would have some contact, and then back upwards again, stroking, as the Spy gazed down at him, their eyes meeting for a moment.

 

Bringing his own hands up to touch the Spy's taut exposed body, the older man grinned. It felt so right doing this. The Frenchman touched him because he wanted to, not through force or coersion.

 

So gentle with him, and so responsive in return, arching his back as the Sniper's rough fingers traced over his most sensitive areas. It was his turn. A soft cry as the Sniper's fingers danced over the base of his spine, "Oh! Z...zere! Again!"

 

"What? There, really?" There was an unmistakable cocky hint in the RED Sniper's voice as his fingers worked again.

 

Another shiver of desire, another soft gasp, naked flesh pressing close to the male beneath the Spy. The other closed his eyes, "Oh mon dieu! C'est sensationnel!"

 

There was enough pride there to cause the Sniper a subtle smirk. "Y'like that, babe?"

 

More muttering in French, along with "who are you calling 'babe'?", and then another soft wet cry sounded in the air of the nest. The BLU bit his lip and hissed, pleasure dripping from every syllable, "You are good wiz ze 'ands, mon amour."

 

"Gotta be... wouldn't be a very good 'bush man' if I weren't eh?" He stared up at the Spy, loving how he looked when he enjoyed himself.

 

The masked face was smiling, filled with happiness, much better than the melancholy gaze he'd had before. Both hands pressed against the sniper's chest, the Spy grinding gently against the other male beneath him, pressing himself close. "As much as I long to touch every inch of your body, I am tempted to lie back and see what you can do wiz zese 'ands."

 

"You'd let me? Even though I ain't that skilled at... pleasin guys? Y'quite demandin."

 

"Oh do silence zese ridiculous words." The younger male laughed, "I never claimed to be ze expert at pleasing ze male. I would let you explore every inch of me wiz zose 'ands."

 

"Every? Inch?" He swallowed, hand pausing.

 

The Frenchman seemed confident, "You would like zis?"

 

"...... Lie down for me then." Sounding so serious, the Sniper shut his eyes.

 

Very slowly, teasingly so, the Spy removed himself from his seated position and knelt down softly on the bed, smiling at his Sniper before lying down on his back, arms above his head. "Like zis?"

 

Fuck yes. Hands ran up his soft, pale sides. The Sniper kissed him intently, a broad grin on his face.  
"Damnit, you look so beautiful."

 

The Frenchman shivered, arching his back with the touches, smiling the whole while, spine curving gently and rising above the white sheets, "You flatter me."

 

"Nope. I mean I never thought much about naked guys. But damnit Spy, your body is... perfect."

 

This caused the other to chuckle lightly, "I thank you for ze compliments. I do try to look after myself."

 

"... I bet ya get that sorta talk all the time? I just never been with another man like this."

 

That soft unjudging gaze regarded the Sniper gently. The Spy shook his head, "Non. I do not get zis talk all of ze time because I do not reveal myself to anyone. You are one of ze lucky ones."

 

"Just don't want to sound insincere..."

 

"You could not if you tried." Humour in the Frenchman's voice, his masked face failing to cover the happiness that danced over his cobalt eyes and tugged at his lips.

 

Having seen a brief glimpse of the face beneath, the older Sniper longed to see that face again. It was almost surreal being this close to another man, yet not really knowing what he looked like.

 

The Spy caught the Sniper's gaze, "What?"

 

Stopping in shock, as though realising he'd been caught, "What? What I do?"

 

"You were staring at me wiz such intensity, mon amour, I feared I 'ad somezing on my face!" A soft chuckle from the BLU.

 

"Y'do..." he didn't want to sound so grim. Simply, the Australian wanting to be closer to the young Spy.

 

"Oh?" One of the Frenchman's thin hands came up to touch gently across his own sharp features, "Where?"

 

Sitting up slightly so as to run a strong, rough hand along the top of the Spy's mask, down his cheek, the Sniper looked at him very hard.  
"Right here."

 

Realisation dawned on the Spy and for a moment he said nothing. There seemed to be so many thoughts running through his head, those cold and calculating eyes trying to read every inch of the Sniper's intent. 

 

He seemed to be having trouble speaking, forming his words, his hands twitching and then forcing themselves still again, before moving and stopping. 

 

The BLU breathed out a soft sigh, closing his eyes and sparing the Sniper the intensity of his gaze, before his fingers touched over his own mask. Twitching, nudging, playing with the fabric, like a child toying with a plaster that needed to be ripped off. He was chewing his lip, considering it more so, before his voice sounded in the room, quiet and almost meek, "You...you promise...you promise never to tell? You realise...zat if I do zis...zere will be no going back for eizzer of us? I will be showing you my final trust..."

 

Kneeling, hands stroking the Spy's waist, tugging him closer.

 

"I understand... I promise I'll never tell another soul." Fixing him with his dark stare, the Sniper tried to reassure him, and kissed his masked forehead.

 

The Frenchman considered for a moment more. There was nothing that the Sniper did not know. He knew about his relationship with the previous Sniper. Knew every inch of the BLU before him, having touched over his face already in darkness. Shared sorrow and joy and love and lust in a mere three weeks. Had seen the calm and collected Spy break down in tears. Listened to secrets that would incriminate the pair of them if anyone found out.

 

What more was there to tell?

 

Did the Spy even need to think of this any more??

 

Determined, the Spy glanced up, a new fire of passion that seemed to turn the cobalt gaze into that of burning steel. He nodded to himself, "...every inch. I promised you every inch..."

 

Then slowly the mask was rolled upwards, revealling the slender pale neck and the start of the Spy's strong jawline, where it stopped for a moment. The younger's hands were shaking. It was obviously difficult for him. 

 

He seemed to be counting in his head, whispering, his fingers twitching with each number, "Un...deux...trois..."

 

Then the mask was gone, whipped off quickly so he could not change his mind, the Spy flinching and closing his eyes as though expecting some form of reprecussion from the act.

 

The only repercussion was the hesitant, tentative feeling of fingers slipping into the Spy's blond hair. Breathing out in a hushed voice the Sniper whispered,  
"Wow..."

 

The Spy could have only been described as French. Every feature of his face was sharp and pointed, his nose thin, his cobalt eyes showing up clearly in contrast to his pale skin. His blonde hair was long, perhaps almost to his shoulders, tied back and gelled so that it would fit under his mask. 

 

He was biting his lip, "Wow? Zis is all you 'ave to say? 'Wow'?"

 

"Thank you." Strong arms were already lifting him up and laying him down on the messed up bed.

 

A soft blush made its way across the Spy's cheeks. He laughed, more out of nervousness, one hand smoothing back the mask messed blonde hair, "Why...why do you thank me for zis?"

 

"Thank you for trustin me." The strain had been visible on the Spy's face, he knew it had to have been tough.

 

Another laugh. The Spy nodded and smiled, "As zey say 'throw ze caution away wiz ze wind', non? Ze worst you could do iz tell everyone zat I am blonde I suppose."

 

It was said in a calm and humoured manner. No offense or caution left. The BLU was still smiling as he reached up to brush a hand through the Sniper's own hair. His voice dropped to a whisper, "Now you know me as I know you."

 

"Not quite yet..." There was a smile playing across the Australian's face as he pushed the other down once more, gazing down with adoration reflected in his eyes. The Spy gave a soft moan as rough fingers found his soft flesh once more, smiling back at the other.

 

"Still got some explorin' to do..."


	5. Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was that him moaning?

Was that him moaning?

Lay back on the dirty sheets of some bushman's bed, his naked flesh hot and flushed, back arched so perfectly?

Could someone possibly be giving him so much pleasure that he was lost all of his professional air and composure and was now reduced to fits of whining, pleading, begging? 

Amidst the sound of gunfire, of the Sniper's nest creaking all around them, dust falling from the ceiling, the Blu Spy moaned and writhed like he had never done so before. The air surrounding the bed was warm, the Sniper's warmth, his own warmth, and the feeling of those hands trailing across his sweat slicked skin was simply...merveilleux! 

Every calloused fingertip leaving burning sensations across his skin; a trail of pleasure and sensitivity. His own chest rising and falling with his laboured breathing. Lips upon the most wonderful areas of his body, causing him to shiver with pleasure, moan with passion, tearing noises and twitches from his trembling frame without it being from torture.

Or maybe it was torture?

The fact that his most sensitive area, his aching length that had been so hard from the get go, had remained thus far untouched. No amount of hip thrusting, needy whining, or biting could convince the Sniper to do anything but take his own sweet time. 

The Frenchman thought himself to be going mad with pleasure.

He uttered words that he knew his Sniper would not understand. "Plus...s'il te plait...plus!" Even considered switching to a language that his Sniper knew, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the English died on his tongue and he found himself voiceless for that particular language, pulled into more garbled French pleas. 

He gulped in air and breathed hard, allowing himself time to recover slightly as the Sniper's lips trailed downwards on his arm, resting just above the Blu's tattooed wrist. Those black words that stood out so boldly on the pale skin. Marking one of the most pleasurable spots on the French assassin's body. A weakness on proud display. 

Biting his lip, the Spy mumbled something in French and then felt his head explode with the pleasure as teeth joined in to bite gently at the thin flesh, the Red's lips and tongue assaulting him without mercy. 

Not that he would have wanted it. 

That wonderful slick tongue running over the lettering, touching the most sensitive part of him as it traced each word, his pulse beating rapidly beneath soft lips. Just watching how the Sniper moved made the Spy wish that he had another verse upon his other wrist for him to trace. Something meaningful to him. Something that represented his adoration for the Australian. 

Not that the other tattoo was not meaningful. The Spy could vaguely remember his wrist being kissed and bitten in a similar manner when he'd first shown his small verse to the old Sniper, feeling that rough stubble scratching at his soft flesh, teeth biting at the veins carrying his burning blood. 

It was a verse that had been tattooed after the Sniper had whispered his name into the Spy's ear, sealing their fate forever, making the Blu whisper his own name in his hoarse French tones. 

Before he could dwell on this further, he felt one of the Red's hands trace over his thin hipbone, making him moan out again into the hot air. The Frenchman's hips lifted a little. He smiled down at the equally flushed face that was still suckling gently at his wrist.

"You...you will be...ze death of moi..."

Dropping his gaze down to the Spy's soft skin and delicate bones. He grinned, unable to believe he was allowed this close to an exposed assassin.

"Fuck, you're beautiful you know that."

A soft laugh from the Frenchman, him lying back more so against the soft cool sheets of the bed, his cobalt gaze fixed on his lover's face, "You speak zese lies."

Another kiss, more tender than the Sniper thought he was capable of. Calloused hands dipped into the sensitive crook of the BLU's arm, stroking at the untouched skin he found there.

"AGH!" The Spy jerked softly, laughing a little. Ticklish. The smooth assassin who rarely showed any emotion was actually ticklish!

Biting his lip, the blonde male was now mockingly glaring at his Sniper, "You...you and your...wandering 'ands..."

"You said I could..." rueful, like a scolded child, the Sniper laughed. "Too cute. Like a teenager."

"I am young for a Spy..." A soft purr. Adoring. Loving. Those usually cold eyes so gentle and caring when gazing at the Australian. 

The wrist without words was presented to the Sniper, "You can explore me all you wish. I 'old no secrets or weaknesses from you, mon amour...."

"I'm... not much good at y'know. Looking at people, bein with guys. It's. It's difficult to me."

At that whispered response, the Spy sat up softly and offered a warm smile, "You would like me to continue to pleasure you? I am very good with my 'ands and my tongue, mon amour."

"Gods... don't fuckin say that. Damned Spy."

"Why? Do my words do things to you?" Before the Australian could react, that thin lithe form was on top of him, crawling over the length of his body, on all fours. Almost in a predatory fashion. Purring, "You would love it..."

"Love it?" The RED thought about the situation. Of course he'd loved it, every time they were together like this it was perfect. He shouldn't feel this way about another man, regardless the weight of the Spy in his lap was comforting and sexual all at once.

"Allow me to take over a little zen..." Gently, the Spy slid down, one hand stroking across the entire length of the Sniper's form until he reached his thighs, sitting between them with a soft smile on his face. Softly as always, he gripped his lover's length, before lowering his head down, tongue lapping at the tip eagerly.

"N.. nn," The Australian choked, pulling away before giving in. "Fuck. Damn Spy!"

Even the slightest twitch from the taller male did not seem to bother the Spy. He lapped softly around the tip, taking it into his mouth, letting his tongue explore the sensitive areas of the Sniper's cock, before moving a few more inches into his mouth more so. A low moan vibrated around the the entire length.

Quiet, gritting his teeth, the Australian was still extremely sensitive. Hard and tense he shivered.

With a soft lick to that sensitive head, the Frenchman pulled back a little and smiled, "Do you think...you could come for me zis evening?"

"No." It was supposed to sound forceful but it was simply a whine, child-like, and confused. Large hands covered his blushing face.

A soft sigh, "Zen...I suppose I must prepare you anuzzer way...."

Quietly the Sniper sat up and reached for a bottle of alcohol on the side. He took a heavy swig and fixed the Frenchman with his steely eye.

"You are, so cruel."

"Why so?" A smile on the Spy's face, so gentle and loving. "All i am offering you is pleasure. Would you razzer I just take what I desire?"

"You can do what you. What you like." Still with a trusting smile, that voice in the back of his mind warning him against trusting the BLU assassin, the Sniper nodded. "Feels good."

"I like to make you feel good." Softly, the Spy pulled up the Sniper's legs, resting them on his own shoulders, before gently sucking his long thin fingers lightly, "Zis...I 'ope...will feel good..."

"Damn," The Sniper felt he'd drunk too much, blushing and looking away from that powerful gaze. Understandable really. First there had been the revelation of the Spy's brother and himself meeting, then the sickness of the RED Spy's twisted mind had been brought to light, and finally the night had ended with them both lay there naked, no masks, not secrets, both just exploring each other, adoring each other, knowing each other. 

There had been drinking inbetween, both Spy and Sniper's cheeks flushed red with the influence of alcohol, but it seemed that the Frenchman's mind was still as sharp as a tack. He was smiling as he gently placed saliva slicked fingers at the Australian's entrance.

The RED couldn't bring himself to say anything, choking out his protestations. He was flushed darker than he'd ever been, with the blinds down and a bottle of beer in his hand.

The whole time, throughout the whole process, the Spy simply smiled. Offered his reassurance through the facial expressions that his Sniper could now see. As one finger slid past the tight ring of muscle, entering the male beneath him, the blonde whispered hoarsely, "...it will 'urt...but I will make it feel good...I promise...you and me...will feel good together...."

"I know." He breathed out steadily, they'd done it before. It had been new and odd, but now he was willing to let this man have the run of his body again. This time fully seeing the face of the man he was about to accept inside him. 

The Spy breathed gently and placed another finger inside, scissoring the Australian assassin wide. "Oh mon dieu...zis feels...better zan last time..."

"Cause I'm pissed, y'bastard. Because bein with you makes me feel like a bloody idiot. You're so good at this, so damned sexy."

The Spy's face seemed to flush with either embarrassement or pride, him laughing softly at these slurred yet honest words. When he spoke, it was low and it was passionate, "You make me feel like I could take on ze world, mon amour...but for now...I am content wiz taking you....."

Casually the Australian wondered if the Spy had thought of that line in advance. Submitting to his touches he realised he didn't care. Knowing the BLU, though, he probably had. Probably had been saving it for this moment, when the Sniper's legs were bent double over his long frame, and his own tip was pressing against that tight willing hole, ready to enter his love again. 

"....You are ready?"

"As I'll ever be," A soft chuckle, the Sniper reaching up to touch the Frenchman's hips.

"Very well..." The Spy smiled.

Then there it was. Not forceful, but definately with meaning. That stretching, aching, filling sensation. The Spy was panting, whining, feeling each muscle of the Sniper's body clenching down around him. 

"Oh...oh...mon...dieu..."

It was like nothing the Australian had ever experienced, a lot less rough than before. Like they were making love, like the last time he'd been with a woman, "Damn... damn... damn."

Whimpering softly, taking his time, easing his way in gently, the Spy breathed out softly, "....J'aime tu...mon amour...."

"Don' know what that means, but fuck it you're sexy when you speak French, c'mere." The RED sat up a little, tugging the Spy into his arms as the younger man slipped inside him.

A smirk. The Spy smiling ever so triumphantly in his knowledge that the Sniper could not know what he meant when he spoke French, and then, ".....it means I love you....you are my love....."

"Really?"

A soft sigh from the French assassin. Discussing the French language during sex? Certainly not the craziest thing he had ever done, but it was most unusual when one was buried deep inside one's lover...

A smile, "Oui. I...'ave been slipping for some time now. Calling you 'my love'...'mon amour'...I 'ope...you do not mind zis..."

"Nah. S' so long as you mean it." The Sniper found himself mirroring the smile; like an awkward teen, not sure of himself but desperately wanting something. It felt so right being in the arms of the BLU Spy, like whatever the young man did it could never be bad.

"Oui. Of course I mean it." A chuckle. Then a gentle kiss placed on the lips of the lanky Australian. "Everytime I say it I mean it."

Pushing back against the Spy, the older man grinned, trying to sound nonchalant, "Well then. That's ok isn't it."

Without warning, the Frenchman thrust in hard, deep. "Oui. It is."

And the RED was lost, meeting everything the Spy had to give him. Swearing and moaning, he couldn't let go, wanting nothing more than to be in this bed with the Frenchman. Making love. That's what they were doing, but it didn't scare him. Not any more.

There was no hesitance. No suspicion that one would kill the other. Not even a memory of what had occurred before. For now it was just a RED and a BLU both joined in one simple act of love. 

The Spy gasped, whined, moaned, his thrusts long and hard and steady. "I love you. I love you, my sniper."

"Love you too. Bloody Spy." The Australian laughed, almost as if he'd made a joke, but still being pumelled by the Frenchman.

It was almost too much. 

The Spy groaned and felt himself orgasm deep within his Sniper, thrusting long and hard for a final time, letting out a soft whine of pleasure. "Mon...dieu..."

"Damnit, just do it. Gods feels... fuck. Fuck Spy."

The Frenchman cried out, coming deep within his Sniper, whimpering, muttering all kinds of soft words in French and English, whining for the other. The Australian was unusually quiet, long fingers digging into the Spy's pale skin.

When he could speak again, the Spy breathed softly, "You are alright, mon amour?"

"... Yup. Think I'm fine." His voice was a great deal smaller than usual, eyes closing softly. He was either embarassed or sleepy. Or both.

A soft laugh from the BLU, "Do you wish for me to stay ze evening? Ze battle is almost over outside."

"Would it be safe for you t'stay?" The Sniper seemed genuinely concerned reaching for a slightly crumpled cigarette on his side table.

Pulling out of his lover, the Spy stretched his pale thin frame out, and shrugged lightly, "I did it plenty of times before, mon ami. Per'aps you would like me to do ze same wiz you?"

A soft plume of smoke drifted about the Spy's head as he explained, "Ze previous Sniper. I often stayed overnight. Usually when I knew zere would be a ceasefire ze next day or so." 

Humming thoughtfully, the BLU reached over and fished his own cigarettes and lighter out of the pockets of his folded clothes.

"Well, if y'think it'll be alright. Then go for it." The Sniper's large hands shook around as he grasped his lighter. Was it from nerves, or cold, or the lack of blood in anything important?

Softly, a flickering flame appeared in front of him, lighting his cigarette. A soft hand was placed over his own. "...I want to know zat you would want zis."

"Course. Guess I'm used t'sleepin alone."

"You think you could get used to 'aving me around?"

"Like some sorta stray?"

This comment earned the Sniper a snort from the Frenchman. The BLU huffed, "'Ow dare you liken me to zat of a dog!"

Chuckling the Australian could already feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. The smoke set him off beautifully. Laying back in his bed, sticky and naked. Yet he couldn't bring himself to care.

There was the Spy's heat upon him again, the Frenchman's own thin frame sliding into the small bed alongside his Sniper, nuzzling up to him softly. The BLU placed his head on the other's chest, closing his eyes, listening to that soft heartbeat.

"Mmm, sleepy now." He could barely feel his hand as it was held close to his mouth. "Warm and sleepy."

The cigarette was taken from him lightly and placed in the ashtray at the side of the bed, the Spy chuckling gently. "Goodnight, mon amour."

"Night. Spy." Never before had one syllable usually so charged with fear and hatred, been spoken with so much love.


End file.
